shiny transparent glass hearts
by another moment gone
Summary: one-shot. " She doesn't look like a China doll." *R&R*  -another moment gone-


**sh **i ny _ t _ra ns p a**ren**t gla ss h e_a rts_

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-another moment gone-

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Her heart is delicate like many other things. With a pressure applied too hard, she'll crack like the China doll that sits on the shelf in your little sister's room. Without touch, she'll freeze in the cold, the glass preparing to shatter. Anything is bound to break that shiny transparent glass heart of hers.

She'll sit on that desk and swing her legs back and forth, a cryptic smile etching on her delicate features. She'll catch your curious stare and toss her hair back with a simple movement, acting like she never caught your stare to begin with.

She doesn't _look _like a China doll.

You play the field like any other dude in your entire school. Testing the waters and swimming your way through the dozens of fish. But you're always trying to catch that alluring stare of hers…you just can't shake it out of your head.

She's like winter and you're like summer—total opposites. She goes left, you're always going right. She jumps up; you're already falling into gravity's hands. You wander in; she's already a few seconds ahead—leaving.

You're not falling, right?

You watch with careful orbs. Her mouth is open, laughing, but her eyes are flickering and sharing another story. Her eyes fall upon your always present ones. Her smile widens along the grooves of her face.

She _definitely _does not look breakable.

Its fall: a neutral but beautiful season; it has no hold on neither you nor her. You are nothing like fall, and she isn't either.

The leaves drop like flies, the rich vibrant colors fading like the words on the crumpled piece of paper in front of you; the led from the pencil fading due to all the touching. You simply wonder why the words _must_ fade over time.

When winter grips your arms tightly, you struggle to remember to keep your guard. She strides into school with her trademark grin intact. Her hands flutter around animatedly as she explains an exciting story to her friends.

They giggle and laugh and jump up gleefully when she's done.

Your curiosity is raging.

_Her eyes are literally glowing,_ you think to yourself, staring subtly at her during free period.

At lunch you figure out why.

He wraps a casual arm around her shoulder as he walks with her to a table. They sit.

Your pencil snaps.

You don't care.

Their hands are intertwined as they stroll down the crowded hallways, but for some irritating reason, they stand out among the throngs of shuffling rushing bodies.

Your fists are white.

He plays with her hair, twirling the brown strands of flacks around his fingers; marking her, _his_.

He's not good enough for her, you decide. But you're not jealous.

Their lips touch and you swear things got red as a string of profanity slipped loosely from your lips. Your teacher heard and sent you to the office for 'disrupting the classroom's learning environment.'

Spring comes around, the neutrality fades though.

The sparks in her eyes are dim. The pathetic half smile is now in place. The fake poor excuse for a laugh, is now ringing in your ears. Winter's over, and so are they.

A fist pumps in the air—it's certainly _not_ _your _fist.

Her eyes are bloodshot and you can't help but hurt along with her. He was stupid to let someone like her go.

Sure, you're young and naive, but you're not dumb enough to not notice how special she is.

Maybe she _is_ like a shiny transparent glass heart. The way she breaks when she isn't handled carefully. She just needs to be taped up, you decide confidently.

Spring shifts slowly to summer.

School lets out.

She's on the swings in the park, her legs pumping as she reaches higher and higher. The sun glints off her brown locks as she closes her lids. You watch in complete and utter awe.

You walk over to a vacant swing and ask her if the swing is taken. She answers softly, "no."

Your stomach is filled with these weird fluttering things. What do they call these? Crickets? Grasshoppers? Butterflies? _Butterflies_.

You're realizing you sound a lot like a hopeless romantic adolescent girl and it creeps you out.

You begin a quiet discussion with her and soon her brown eyes are glowing again and her smile has finally bloomed. Talk flows easily and you've never felt as giddy as you did then.

And when she leaned over and pecked your lips and pulled away, you fell out of your swing and landed hard on the pebbles beneath you. Blushing rose red, you couldn't help but laugh along with her.

Tape has never worked as beautifully as it has now.

The hot days fly by and the things that brought you

D

O

W

N

raised you

u

p

You've never loved summer as much as you do now.

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Review? (:

-another moment gone-


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